Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors

by Gualtieri, Rick

  Looking out the window allowed me to do my best to ignore the fact that both Pop and Kara were starting to smell pretty tasty.

  So instead I focused on Sally. On the grand scale of things, she was way higher on my priority list than dinner. I closed my eyes and tried to remember exactly what had happened. Sally had been threatening those yahoos then zap. There’d been no warning, no indication, no...

  Except there was. Go over it once more, slowly this time.

  Fucking know it all subconscious. Dr. Death was definitely getting too big for his britches. Even so, it’s not like I had much else to do, so I followed his advice and focused on that moment ... playing it again and again in my head until... Holy shit! The asshole was right. There was something I’d missed – that damned bracelet had beeped right before she vanished. But had that been the cause or simply a result of something setting it off?

  I had no way of knowing and, with no working phones in reach, that left me with few options for finding out. Fortunately, one of those options was knowing the little birdie who almost certainly had a clue as to what had happened to her. And I was going to get answers from that fucker no matter what.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  By the time we reached the city, the crushed pulp that had been my left hand had mostly sorted itself out, leaving it pretty close to functional. As for the other, my index finger had partially grown back, with the other two not far behind. Thank goodness for vampire healing!

  I instructed Pop to drop us off in Midtown, then told him he was more than welcome to crash at my place in Brooklyn.

  “I appreciate that, I really do,” he replied, “but I’m good. Got me a time share down in Cape May that I know for a fact is empty right now. Gonna head down there and hole up for a bit. Figure out what to do once it’s daylight and I got a few hours of shuteye behind me. Maybe all of this shit will even sound sane by then.”

  “Doubt it.”

  He glanced at the rest of us. “It’s a big place with plenty of room. You’re all more than welcome to join me.”

  No go for me, as I had too many things to do. Likewise, I had a feeling I might need Tom’s help for them. As for Glen, no way did I want him a hundred miles away, walking around in a creepy dead dog with nobody to supervise him. However, that left at least one good candidate for keeping Pop company.

  “You should go with him,” I said to Kara. She opened her mouth, probably to protest, but I was ready for that. “Listen, it’s really not much safer in the city right now. No werewolves, but we have other crap to deal with. And I have a feeling it’s going to be a bit of a late night for us.” I looked at the clock on Pop’s dashboard. “Later night anyway. I promise, I will keep you both in the loop about Ed. There’s no reason for me to hide this stuff anymore. It’s about as out in the open as this shit can get.”

  I could see she was warring with the decision. On the one hand, my words hadn’t exactly been comforting, speaking of dangers still to come. On the other, I knew she didn’t want to be a part of this world anymore. Yeah, she was now firmly in this mess again, by virtue of both her brother and fiancé, and I didn’t know of any good way to fix that, but I was at least giving her a temporary out.

  In the end, former vampire or not, she’d been through enough for one evening, so she finally agreed to go ... after throwing several threats my way that I’d better keep my word or else.

  Pop pulled over and we said our goodbyes. Kara gave Tom a big hug, telling him to keep safe, and likewise promising to be in touch so they could discuss how to break his miraculous resurrection to their parents. Then she climbed back in, taking shotgun this time.

  Pop waved to me, but then he turned to Tom. “No offense ... um, son, but those toys you got there. You do realize those belong to my...”

  “Trust me, we know,” I said, interrupting. “But also trust me that it’s best if he holds onto them. Believe me, you’re not going to find any safer hands right now.”

  That was bullshit. I mean, Tom would almost certainly try to protect them, likely with his life – greedy nutjob that he was – but the reality was their future was probably a wee bit less certain in his hands. Still, my answer seemed to mollify Pop for the moment.

  “All right. I suppose it don’t hurt none. You bring my boy back safe, you hear?”

  I nodded. “You have my word, sir.”

  “Good enough. I’ll hold you to it.”

  They promised to give us a call once they were settled in, then he and Kara pulled away – disappearing from sight down the next block as they turned and headed toward the Holland Tunnel.

  At least they were safe for now. As for us...

  “So where to, Freewill?” Glen asked, looking up at me with his freaky bugged out eyes.

  “The docks. I have a stool pigeon I need to have a word with.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Will you knock it off? People are staring. It’s bad enough they can already see Glen.”

  “Bark!”

  I looked down at him. “Not helping.”

  “Chill, asshole,” Tom replied. “I’m just testing shit out. Jeez, when did you become my grandma?”

  “Fine, but test your powers where people can’t see you. They’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

  “Fuck it. Let them take a picture and post it to Instagram. See if I give a shit. Besides, this is the first time I’ve gotten this faith crap to work right, so I want to make sure it’s not going to fizzle again.”

  Working right might’ve been taking it a stretch too far. I’d never seen Sheila do what he’d done back there in the woods. Fortunately, Tom at least had enough sense to not try that here. Blowing a hole in the side of a building was definitely not going to go unnoticed. As it was, though, him constantly flaring up as we walked wasn’t really helping either.

  “Seriously, dude, I think I’m starting to get the hang of this. It was all about having something to focus on.”

  “Makes sense,” I replied. “Except that Sheila’s focus was on ... oh, I dunno ... helping people.”

  “Yeah, but most people are assholes.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  If Tom was insulted by my quip, he didn’t show it, continuing to look down at the ill-gotten gains in his hands. “I get it now. It’s kinda like when I found Optimus Prime at that flea market. You remember that?”

  “Hard to forget.”

  “It was like ... I had a connection with him.”

  “It,” I countered.

  “Huh?”

  “It was a freaking toy, not a person.”

  “Eat a dick, grammar Nazi,” he replied with no real rancor. “When I had him with me, it was like there was this tingle in my fingertips. Kind of like how your hand gets when you’ve been jacking it too long.”

  “That’s a metaphor I could do without, thanks.”

  “I believe it was actually a simile, Freewill,” Glen bubbled from next to me.

  “Who’s the grammar Nazi now?”

  “Except now it’s different,” Tom continued, ignoring our banter. “Same focus, but that tingle is like all over my body. And back there with those werewolves, it was like me grabbing hold of that tingle and shoving it right up their asses.”

  “So you’re equating the power of faith to a dildo now? Nice.”

  “I think I understand, Icon,” Glen replied. “Those items in your hand function in the same way the former Icon’s sword did.”

  Tom nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Except I can’t use her sword for shit, especially not with this gimped arm. But that’s okay, I like this stuff better anyway. Fuck that ren faire bullshit.” He turned to me. “Speaking of which, how much do you think we could get for...”

  “We are not selling the sword,” I snapped. “It belonged to fucking Joan of Arc.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t need it now. And think of what some rich history nerd will pay for that shit? We could ... oh fuck. Not now.” He stopped and put his hands over his stomach.

  “W
hat’s wrong?”

  “Pit stop time. Can’t talk, need to find a place to...”

  There was a Wendy’s across the street. Without further preamble, Tom raced over and inside, headed toward the restroom.

  Ah fuck it. It’s not like I couldn’t use a piss break, too.

  I debated whether to tell the staff that Glen was my emotional support dog, then decided to just leave him on the sidewalk and go. Who the fuck was going to try stealing him?

  Sure enough, he was there when I got back – after picking up an order of fries. If anything, people were giving him a wide berth as he stood there wagging his tail in a haltingly disturbing way. Can’t say I really blamed them.

  Feeling much better with an empty bladder, I waited for Tom to join us.

  “Women,” I said to Glen. “Always gotta take forever in the can.”

  “In all fairness, Freewill, both of your sexes utilize an inefficient process when it comes to waste management.”

  “Oh?” I replied, vaguely aware that I was having a public conversation with a talking dog.

  “Yes. I merely allow my excretions to collect on my surface layer so it can evaporate. Much easier that way.”

  I made a mental note to never touch him again. “I’ll have to try that some time.”

  Tom finally rejoined us. He stepped out, smiled, then held his arms out to the side. “Ta da! How do I look?”

  “Exactly as you did three minutes ago.”

  “I know. Isn’t it great? No leaks or anything.”

  “Not following.”

  “Kara showed me how to change a pad, and I think I finally figured it out.”

  I couldn’t help but grimace. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your sister, but shouldn’t you already know this shit?”

  “Why the fuck would I?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re an adult, who used to be in an adult relationship, and who somehow managed to father a freaking child for Christ’s sake.”

  “First off, there’s no used to be. Secondly, rather than being a jack-off of all trades, like you, I chose to specialize in what I’m good at – sliding it in and letting the magic happen.”

  I turned away shuddering. “I so did not need to know that.”

  “The truth hurts ... but it hurts so good.”

  “Someone should hurt you so good.”

  “Hey, be nice to me. It isn’t easy being a chick. On the way out, some fucker offered me his chicken nuggets for a blowjob. Cheap asshole could have at least thrown his Frosty in, too.”

  “At least it’s good to know you have a backup job in case this Icon thing doesn’t pan out.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “No thanks. I have intelligence standards and you no longer qualify.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  It didn’t take long for us to reach the pier Falcon was currently calling home. There was a strange stillness in the air as we approached. It was quiet, almost too quiet. Of course, that could’ve been nothing but my paranoia, having just walked away from a fucking werewolf battle. Such things tended to leave one a bit on edge.

  More than likely, it was simply a case of it being late and a work night. I glanced past the metal fencing standing before us, noting the boring normalcy of it all, and remembered the glamour Falcon had in place. For all I knew, it was designed to mute noise, too, prissy British twat that he was. Dude was probably used to some proper country estate rather than a filthy pier in the middle of Manhattan.

  I told my two companions about the glamour, especially Tom, since it would effectively mask him if he wanted to flare up once inside, maybe. Icon powers tended to futz with magic, so there was no way to tell for certain. But I guess we’d cross that bridge ... in about three seconds.

  Popping open the unlocked gate, we walked inside. So far so good. A few more steps and I noticed the air shimmering as it had before, and then we were through.

  “Okay, we should be inside the glamour,” I said. “Um, want to power up and see if anyone calls the cops?”

  My logic was piss poor at best, but Tom wasn’t one to question such things. He simply stepped forward a few feet, moving far enough away so as to not instantly kill me, held up the toys he’d purloined, with his good arm anyway ... and then hesitated.

  “Waiting for an invitation?” I asked.

  Tom smiled back at me with the look he got when a plan was forming in his mind – almost never a good thing where he was concerned. “Hold on. I want to try something.”

  “Please tell me you’re not going to see if you can hit New Jersey from here.”

  “Nothing that cool,” he replied. “Although that’s not a bad idea.”

  “I’m going to look around, Freewill,” Glen said, wandering away. “See if I can sniff out anything with my eyes.”

  “Wait, your eyes can...?”

  “Check it out,” Tom said, catching my attention again. He stared at the pair of toys in his hand, squinting at them.

  “Check what out?”

  “I’m concentrating.”

  “You look like you’re trying to take a shit.”

  “Same general idea.” The white aura of faith began to form around him, sputtering at first, but then growing stronger and steadier.

  “Okay, and? Are you trying to see if your powers will wipe your ass, too?”

  “While I don’t dismiss that a faith bidet would be awesome,” he countered, “not quite. Gah! How did she get it to work?”

  “Get what to work?”

  “Oh wait. I have an idea.” He stared down at his bad arm. “By the power of Grayskull, I command you to heal!”

  Heal?

  Unsurprisingly, nothing happened for several long moments. Then he looked at the stuff he was holding and rolled his eyes. “Duh. Wrong catchphrase. Let’s try that again.” He touched the red Power Ranger to his bad arm and cried out, “Form Megazord, motherfucker!”

  I was about to comment on how that was the absolute stupidest fucking thing I’d seen in quite some time, when the glow around his body coalesced into the hand holding the action figure ... and then down into his bad arm, causing it to be momentarily enveloped in brilliant white light.

  When the glow cleared a second or two later, gone were the scars that had crisscrossed his upper arm, scars which I’d caused five years earlier.

  Tom flexed his fist a few times, then spun his formerly bad arm around in a circle, seemingly with no pain. “Fuck yeah! Good as fucking new, bitches. No idea why she didn’t do this herself. Goddamn, that is so much better.”

  I had no doubt it was. At the same time, a part of me was sort of insulted on Sheila’s behalf. “You do realize she kept those scars for a reason, right? To remind her of her humanity and those she fought for.”

  Tom shrugged, the concept apparently going right over his empty head. “Yeah, well, when a new tenant moves in, you can’t blame them for making a few improvements.”

  I was a bit split on that myself. At the same time, though, it was hard to forget the various new threats which seemed to be popping out of the woodwork. Honoring a memory was one thing, but I had a feeling we were going to need us all in tiptop shape in the days ahead.

  Hell, for all I knew, we might need that in the next few minutes.

  Still, it was kind of a slap in the face to her memory, and probably something we needed to talk about. That said, even I couldn’t argue it might be best to table that discussion for a better time.

  “Fine,” I groused. “If this Icon gig doesn’t work out, at least you can make a living jerking off two dicks at once.”

  Tom laughed. “You’re just jealous that one of them won’t be yours.”

  “Believe me, I’m not.” I turned and looked around. “Hey, Glen!”

  “Over here, Freewill,” he called back from further in. His mouth was open and a tendril of goo containing an eyeball was extended out from it, looking at something on the ground.

  “Be careful, man,” I said. “This
place is warded. You don’t want to set one...”

  There came a bright flash of blue light from where he stood, followed by a high whine of power, as if an electric transformer had just blown out.

  “...off.”

  Before I could comprehend what had just happened, a smoking mound of fur flew past us to land in an unmoving heap upon the cracked asphalt.

  Oh shit! “Glen!”

  I HEAR YOU KNOCKING

  “Douse the light show,” I told Tom, as we both raced to where Glen lay.

  “Sorry, man,” he replied, dialing it back – a bit anyway. “Still figuring this shit out.”

  I wasn’t really listening, though, being far more concerned with our other roommate at the moment. Poor little guy. He’d been enthusiastic, yeah, to a really fucking annoying degree if we’re being honest, but he’d meant well. And instead of warning him to be careful while he’d wandered into a supernatural minefield, like I should have, instead I’d just stood there with my thumb up my ass watching Tom play with action figures.

  Some friend I’d turned out to be.

  “Glen,” I cried again, reaching where he lay. “Speak to me, man!”

  Arcs of blue energy continued to lance through the now smoldering dog corpse. As awful as it had looked before, it was a complete mess now. Part of its back leg had been blown off, the fur was missing in even more spots, and one side of its head had been charbroiled.

  It twitched a few times, giving me hope, but then I realized it was likely just the residual power of the ward still coursing through the lifeless pile of meat before me.

  “Oh no, man.” I dropped to my knees next to him.

  “Shit,” Tom said from behind me. “Poor dude. Um, should we give him mouth to mouth or something?”

  I rounded on him. “And what the fuck is that going to do? He doesn’t have a mouth!”

  “Wait, I know! I could try healing him.”